


As I lay me down

by StrictlyNoFrills



Series: In each and every time, a destiny [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Bilbo Baggins, Not entirely linear, Sort Of, The death is temporary, a future fic, but also a Third Age fic, it's a bit confusing, like I said: it's confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
Summary: “What sort of mischief are you up to?”“Why would I be up to anything mischievous?” Bilbo asked, the picture of innocence.





	As I lay me down

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, okay? I was just listening to Fefe Dobson's _Stuttering_, and then the first scene popped into my head, and then it grew into this thing.
> 
> The plots for Lady Bilbo/Fili stories keep cropping up all over the place, and I am _busy_. I already have the one WIP for those two that you all know about, and then there's two others at varying stages, and I _still_ need to write the next chapter of my _Roswell_ AU.
> 
> *blinks* What has this fandom done to me?

Bilbo smiled and feigned a look of interest as her cousin continued to dig herself into an even deeper hole. Honestly, did Lobelia even hear the words coming out of her own mouth sometimes?

Blowing a large bubble, she allowed it to pop obnoxiously and fought against a smirk as Lobelia cringed a bit, covering slightly by checking the time on her phone. “Well, it was lovely to catch up a little, ‘Belia. It’s been too long.”

Deciding to really sell it, she pulled the dour-faced woman into a hug, rather than the begrudging kiss she usually gave her on the cheek in greetings and farewells. Then, as she pulled away, she silently spat out her gum into Lobelia’s long, thick, laboriously maintained curls.

There. Maybe that would make her cousin think twice before disparaging Bilbo’s dead mother – in Bilbo’s presence or otherwise.

A few hours later, an alert dinged on her phone, and Bilbo looked up from her laptop and dragged her phone over towards herself. She let out a delighted laugh at the picture sent to her by her cousin Primula with the caption, _Nice aim_.

Oh, she was getting that printed and framed for sure. Because there, red-eyed and nosed, and glaring miserably into the camera, was Lobelia, with her brand-new pixie cut. The hair was cute – and Bilbo was particularly fond of it because Lobelia would never have voluntarily chosen something like that for herself, had she been given the choice.

The only pity in the entire affair was that the stylist couldn’t do something about ‘Belia’s face.

Maybe if Bilbo slugged her hard enough the next time she was being especially irritating… But no, at least this way, she had the benefit of no witnesses to her crime. Lobelia couldn’t prove definitively that Bilbo did it. If Bilbo bruised her knuckles on her cousin’s face, the gig would be up, and the entire older set of the family would be in an uproar.

Speaking of the family – she texted Prim back,_ I have no idea what you’re talking about, Prim_.

_Sure_, she replied, the tone so dry even through text that Bilbo felt a bit parched just from reading it.

A warm weight settled on her shoulder, and long, blonde hair tickled her neck and collarbones as two strong arms wrapped around her middle.

“What sort of mischief are you up to?”

“Why would I be up to anything mischievous?” Bilbo asked, the picture of innocence.

Hot puffs of air heated the skin of her neck as Fili laughed. “Nice try. You’ve a ways to go before you’re as good at that as Kili is, and I haven’t been fooled by him since before my beard grew in.”

“Lies and slander.”

His beard prickled against her cheek as he pressed a whiskery kiss there. “And what shall my penance be, my lady?”

Bilbo raised her eyebrows. “When you’ve impugned my honor, it is ‘Your Majesty’ you.”

Fili laughed again. “You hate it when people call you that. Don’t think for a moment I haven’t noticed you flinching every time someone who doesn’t know you has to address you.”

“Shut up,” was her rather lackluster retort.

“Mhmm. And how is your thesis coming?”

“Eh…” The less said about her ability to focus today, the better.

“Right. Less antagonizing your gem of a cousin, more researching.”

“Excuse me? Lobelia, a gem? And besides, she’s the one who ‘dropped by’ because she was ‘in the neighborhood’ and then forced me to listen to her prattle on for three hours. If I’m behind on my research, it’s her fault.”

“Ah, I see,” Fili replied sagely. “So, you were provoked into whatever you did that made her chop off all her hair.”

There was a question in there somewhere. “Unbearably provoked, yes! Wait, a minute, no-“ She’d as good as admitted it. Drat that cunning dwarf of hers.

“Ah, ah, ah, nope. You can’t take that back. What have you done this time?”

“Nothing anyone can prove.”

He squeezed her gently. “That’s my burglar.”

Oh, for – “For the last time, that was an _accident!”_

“That’s not how it seemed when you were picking the lock. Which you still haven’t told me where you learned how to do.”

Ignoring that last part, because the less Fili knew about her friendship with a certain thief, the better for everyone involved, for a multitude of reasons, Bilbo told him, for the hundredth time since the night they first met, “I’d lost my keys, and I honestly thought it was my dorm room.”

“You had to walk by half the lads in my dorm to get there.” She was not about to tell him that her freshman self hadn't been able to tell the difference between the dwarves and the dams. She just wasn't. The teasing would be unbearable, and she'd managed to make it this long without letting that little secret out. Her first two years at Uni had been quite the learning curve - and she wasn't talking about the classes.

“I was a bit drunk at the time,” Bilbo defended, instead of admitting the truth, her own laughter belying her reluctant amusement.

“More like three sheets to the wind, I’d say,” he teased back. “You were singing tavern songs at the top of your lungs and trying to break into my room. And thank Mahal for that, or we would never have met otherwise.”

“I’m not seeing how that would be a bad thing right at this moment, to be quite honest,” she said not at all honestly.

“Uh-huh.”

“No, really, you’re being completely aggravating. I have half a mind to –“

Firm, calloused hands reached up to grasp Bilbo’s jaw tenderly and turned her head to pull her into a deep kiss.

She tried to feign disinterest for a few moments, but quickly caved in when he ran his tongue along the line of her bottom lip. Opening her mouth, she felt a flash of heat course through her when their tongues met and pressed even further into the kiss. After a while, she lost herself to the sensations her husband’s mouth and teeth and lips ignited, and if anyone asked her what happened, she would not have been able to say. Everything felt more intense than it normally did – all her nerve endings lit up at the slightest touch, and she thought she might go mad with it.

When they finally had to come up for air, Fili rested his forehead against her own and stared into her eyes.

Feeling slightly dazed, Bilbo was at a loss for a response when her husband asked mildly, “You were saying?”

Bilbo shook her head slowly against Fili’s, and watched as the corners of his bright blue eyes crinkled with love and not a little bit of good humor.

“Well, since you’re getting so much work done on your Wandering Days thesis, why don’t we take a break and have dinner? I brought your favorite.”

Her eyes widened and she felt her stomach rumble in an excited thrill. The scones she’d been forced to set out when Lobelia stopped by earlier for tea had disappeared from her belly hours ago. “Mushroom ravioli? From Bombur and Sons? What’s the occasion?”

“Can’t a dwarf spoil his wife every now and then?”

“A dwarf certainly can – and often does – but he usually comes up with some sort of excuse for it.”

“Can you blame me? You’d just tell me I shouldn’t put myself out if I didn’t.”

That was true enough, she supposed. Even after several years of being married, Bilbo still was not used to being so doted upon. She had spent several years lost in the crush of her extended family after her parents died, after all.

“Yes, well, you really shouldn’t, dear heart, but I do appreciate it. And I do still want to know the latest excuse to spoil me rotten.”

“You could never be spoiled rotten. You simply don’t have it in you.” He pulled away slightly and pressed kisses to both her eyes, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin, and a soft, sweet kiss to her lips which was nothing like the drugging kisses they’d shared earlier, before admitting, “I saw the test.” He beamed down at her. “Is it true? Are we having a baby?”

She nodded, smiling helplessly in the face of his joy. “I’d been meaning to come up with some clever way to tell you, but I guess that’s off the table now.”

He whooped and came around to scoop her up from her desk chair and into his arms, twirling her around.

Bilbo laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself even more tightly to him. She could never be close enough to her dwarf.

“A baby,” he marveled. “A little bit of you, and a little bit of me. Can you believe it?”

“Not really, no,” Bilbo admitted. “It hasn’t really sunk in yet, I don’t think.”

Fili sobered a little. “Are you happy? Do you feel alright?”

“Oh, yes,” she assured him swiftly. “I’m very happy. It’s simply a lot to take in.” She has not had any immediate family aside from Fili since losing her mother and father when they crashed their car during a freak blizzard when Bilbo was a tween, after all. Her aunts and uncles and cousins tried to fill in the gap, but it simply hadn’t been the same. Fili’s family had taken a little while to warm up to her, not sure what to make of his One being a Hobbit, but now she was every bit a part of their large, wild, tempestuous bunch. It helped that Kili had found his One in an elleth – one of the last remaining in Middle Earth, and with much of her past kept close to her vest. After that, Bilbo was quite unexceptional, and much loved.

Even so, it would be wonderful to have a little person in the world who had a little bit of her mother and father in them. It was all so overwhelming, though. She only found out yesterday and processing it fully would take more time. Good job she had plenty of months in her pregnancy left in which to do it, she supposed. And by then she would have her PhD in Archaeology and Ancient Cultures, so she would not have to juggle school, being a member of the royal family, and being a mother. The two of them could not have planned that better if they had tried. Yavannah certainly knew what she was doing.

“You realize this means you can’t prank your cousin anymore, don’t you? You'll have to have your own security guard now. Uncle won't continue to allow you to fight him on it. Not once he hears you are carrying my child,” Fili pointed out, finally setting her down only to wrap her within the circle of his arms.

“I realize no such thing!_ You’re_ the heir to the throne._ I’m_ just the pretty face who sits beside you and looks vapid and harmless during press events. No one would ever think to do anything to me, even while I'm pregnant.”

Fili snorted. “Have you been reading tabloids again? Because you know there’s nothing worth reading in there, and all it ever does is make you angry.”

Enraged was more like it. “Maybe I have. That Drake Smaug is a right bastard. How the Esgaroth Times can still continue to keep him on their payroll, I really don’t know.”

“I think they simply don’t want to risk being roasted themselves if they turn him loose.”

“You’re probably right. That editor certainly has some skeletons in his closet. If only Bard could take over and get rid of him. It is his family’s paper, after all.”

“Just a few more years, love, and then he’ll be of age,” Fili comforted her.

“A few more years,” Bilbo mused. “I wonder what our lives will be like then.”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll be pros at this parenting thing and decide to try for another.”

“We weren’t trying this time. Regardless, why don’t we see how this first go around plays out, and then think about bringing more little Durins into the world?” Bilbo asked dryly. After all, it wasn’t his body that would be doing all the work.

“Whatever you wish, my love,” Fili said, affecting a grand air.

Bilbo laughed at his efforts. “Right now, I only wish for mushrooms. The food’s getting cold.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

“No, indeed.”

A sound drew Bilbo out of a deep sleep, and she sat up quickly in her bedroll, eyeing the clearing she and the Company were in warily.

She caught Fili’s eye from where he sat keeping watch and blushed, looking away swiftly, lest he should notice. With the fire going, who knew how keen his sight must be? She knew dwarves had better sight than she in the dark.

She heard a faint rustling and then looked up again only to see Fili making his way towards her bedroll.

“Are you well, Miss Baggins?” he asked softly once he reached her.

Keeping her voice equally as low, she replied, “Yes, I’m quite well, Fili. Thank you. I just had the strangest dream.”

“Not a nightmare, I hope?”

“No. No, it was rather lovely, actually. Just queer.” Now her cheeks were flaming, and she felt immensely grateful for the chill of the night air, as she feared she might combust.

Fili eyed her curiously, but was kind enough not to comment, asking instead, “Do you think you will be able to go back to sleep, then? Tomorrow will be another long day, I do not doubt.”

“Oh, I am certain of it,” Bilbo agreed. Particularly for her. It had only been a few weeks since she had gone charging out her front door, contract in hand and not a single pocket handkerchief, and she was not accustomed to the pace their illustrious leader had set at all. At least she was slowly but surely growing used to riding. That had been a bear to learn whilst on the road, to be sure.

Fili smiled at her warmly – the same smile from her dream, though she could not remember him ever having directed its like toward her, or anyone else, for that matter – whilst awake. Fili was always mildly amused by something or another, she could tell, though he generally kept his own counsel on the causes of his levity. Yet this was a different smile than the one that always played at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Softer. More private and gentle.

Bilbo gasped silently, and Fili tilted his head, though he did not lose that lovely smile.

Shaking her own head, Bilbo reached out to grasp his hand and press it gently. “It is nothing, Fili. Nothing of consequence. Thank you for checking on me. I do believe you are right, and I should try to sleep some more while I may.”

Fili inclined his head to her, and Bilbo had to feeling he did not yet know how regal he looked when he did such things. “As ever, Miss Baggins, I am at your service.” He raised her hand to his lips and placed a whiskery kiss just above her knuckles.

A jolt of surprise ran through her at the feeling – for how could she remember so clearly a sensation which she had only ever experienced in a dream? One or two Hobbit lads had tried their luck and kissed her hand a time or two in her younger days, but no Hobbit save the elderly had beards, and never ones quite so full and thick as this.

She contained her shock as Fili pulled away and bowed her head in return. “Goodnight, Fili. And please, call me Bilbo.”

“Goodnight, then, Bilbo. Sweet dreams to you.”

She watched him return to his spot across the fire and hastily laid back down before he could notice her staring as he turned and sat against a boulder facing her and the rest of the Company.

Bilbo thought it would be the Fourth Age before sleep found her again, but as she laid there with her head full of questions about kisses and strange devices and clothing, but mostly of Fili, sleep came upon her swiftly, returning her to that other life once more.

For the next few weeks, Bilbo led two lives – the one in her usual, waking world, and the one in that other world she could never have imagined. She came to crave nighttime, not because she was exhausted almost as soon as her days began, though that was certainly true, but because of the comfort and warmth and love that filled her days in that other life. She began to take on more responsibilities, relieving others in the Company of some of their tasks, in the hope that working herself to the bone would drive her into slumber even sooner.

Fili and Bofur took to watching her with concerned frowns, though they had yet to voice any objections. Still, they always ensured that she had plenty to eat and drink, and that she was able to sleep closest to the fire.

There was fire in her dreams, as well. It seemed that the further along in her pregnancy she grew, the more and more amorous she became, and Fili was only too happy to oblige his loving wife. Having never known anyone the way she now knew Fili in her dreams, it was quite a revelation for Bilbo, and every once in a while, she would catch herself sending astonished looks towards his back when he rode further ahead in the line. Her cheeks would flush and her hands would tremble at the memories and the infinite possibilities which now played out in her head. Sweet Yavanna’s mercy, what was happening to her? She could feel it as the last traces of respectability slipped away from her and knew she would never be able to get them back.

It was during one of those heated moments that Bilbo found herself gently shaken awake, and she gazed up at Fili, still caught up in her dream, and moaned his name. Fili gave her a pained look and then put one of his sword-calloused hands over her lips.

“Peace, Ghivashel. I do not believe you would wish for any of the others to see you thus. _I_ do not wish for anyone to see you thus, save for me.”

Blinking some of the haze out of her eyes, Bilbo furrowed her brow in Fili’s direction. “What?”

Fili closed his eyes. “In these strange dreams you’ve been having – aye, I know they have not ceased. Are you with child? My child?”

She swallowed. Only Fili knew of her strange dreams – she thought he had only known of the first. “How do you know that?”

“I believe, Bilbo, that you and I have been having the same dreams.” He glanced away, appearing momentarily abashed. “It was how I knew to wake you this night, when Bombur relieved me of my watch. You can be… quite vocal, my darling.”

All of the blood drained from her face and she stared at him in horror. “Do you think that the others have-“

“No,” he soothed. “Dwarves sleep deeply, and several of us snore loud enough to reach the halls of Mandos. But tonight-“

Yes. _Tonight_. She could see why he might have been somewhat concerned. In that other world, she and Fili had been quite fervent in their affections. The blood rushed back into her cheeks, and she covered them with her hands.

“Bilbo, no, do not hide yourself from me. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But Fili, the things I’ve done – the things you’ve seen me do!” she whispered, agonized. How could he ever look at her the same way again? She was never embarrassed in the dreams, because she could not remember her life here as she remembered her life there when she woke, and so none of her usual inhibitions worked upon her to make her shy or ashamed.

He pulled her hands away from her face and twined her fingers with his own. “I believe you mean the things we have done together, which are only right and natural for a husband and his wife, in the comfort of their marriage bed.” His lips twitched. “Or marriage kitchen. Or sofa. Or-“

“_I_ _get_ _the_ _point_,” Bilbo hissed, embarrassed anew.

“I do not believe that you do,” he replied. “I know you, now, as well as I have ever known anyone, and I do not think less of you for it. In truth,” here, he paused, growing somewhat shy, “in truth, I have come to love you as deeply in this life as I do in the other.”

She bit her lip. “And I you,” she told him, for she could not allow such an admission to go unanswered, and it was nothing but the truth. “But how can this be?”

“There are stories – legends, mostly – of dwarves who have dreamed of the next life they will have with their Ones.”

“But I am not a dwarf,” she pointed out.

“It would seem that it does not matter.”

Bilbo considered his words and then looked up, her eyes wide. “Tauriel! Kili’s One is an elf maiden. What if she is alive now, in this world? What if Kili is meant to meet her?”

Fili looked surprised for a moment, and then he nodded, “Aye, that would explain much about her.”

“We have to help them.” She glanced over toward where Thorin slept. “There are those who will look even less kindly upon the union here than they do there.”

With a deeply admiring look, Fili remarked, “Always thinking of others, Ghivashel.”

Though it warmed her to hear him call her one of the endearments of his people, she felt compelled to tell him, “You cannot grow accustomed to calling me that here. The others will not understand if you slip.”

“There is a simple enough solution for that,” Fili told her.

“And what would that be?”

He withdrew one of his hands to slip it into one of his myriad pockets, and pulled out a small leather necklace, laced with many finely carved beads. “It is not nearly so fine as I would wish to gift you but needs must on the road. Bilbo Baggins, would you do me the greatest honor of allowing me to court you?”

Tears pooled in her eyes. She was not nearly so young, nor so spirited, in this world as she was in the other. Could he truly want one such as she? “Are you certain?”

“I have never been more certain of anything in this life, and I was only more certain in the other when I asked you for your hand.”

Swallowing down her tears, she nodded. “Then yes, Fili. Yes, nothing would make me happier.”

With a wild look of joy in his eyes, Fili placed the necklace around her neck and gathered her close, silently asking her permission before capturing her lips in wonder-filled kiss. They remained wrapped up within each others’ arms for as long as they could before Fili pulled away slightly. “Now, perhaps, will you cease driving yourself into the ground in order to find sleep the sooner? I fear for you if you push yourself any further, my love.”

Could she give up some of her precious time in that other life? She searched Fili’s eyes and found the strength there that she needed. “Yes, dear heart. I will stop.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, before kissing her once more and then letting her go entirely. “And now, I believe, I have kept you up for far too long as it is. Sleep well, Bilbo.”

She smiled. “I shall see you in my dreams, Fili.”

“And I shall be here when you wake.”

For many months, that was true. The Company was by turns befuddled and amused by, what seemed to them, the sudden start to their courtship. Yet they all seemed gladdened to see a bit of love brightening their journey. Even Thorin, Dwalin, and Gloin could find no reasons to object, and that was a feat indeed.

Fili chased her through the halls of the Last Homely House in a merry game that made her feel as free as faunt, and comforted her in the cave after she and Kili nearly fell in the storm, and scolded and thanked her by turns when she threw herself in the way of the orcs coming for Thorin when they all emerged from the mountains.

Each day, their love for each other grew, and Bilbo thanked the wandering wizard who brought Fili to her door.

And then, on the darkest of dark days, Azog took her Fili away.

For days after, she eschewed sleep, fearing that the dreams would no longer come, and fearing that they would. Those of the Company who had the presence of mind to fretted over the bags under her eyes and the gauntness of her cheeks, but she would not be swayed. Only Fili could have reached her in such a state, but Fili was lost to her, and so awake she remained.

Yet sleep would not be denied for long, and on the fourth day, she collapsed, and found herself in Fili’s arms. Life in that other world was full of peace and happiness. The only sorrow upon her heart there was the loss of her parents, and Fili did his best to distract her whenever the feeling would overcome her, just as she would comfort him whenever he missed his father.

When she woke in her own world again, she wept bitterly as she had not allowed herself to weep at the funeral and rested her hand against the flat of her belly. In that other world, the babe had already arrived, hearty and hale, and as fair to look upon as Fili, but in this world, a babe had only lately taken root, as she and Fili had married whilst the Company took refuge at Beorn’s.

Oh, _how_ was she to do this alone?

As the weeks passed, the babe in her dreams grew, and the one within her womb grew also. She fled Erebor with Gandalf shortly after Dain’s coronation, unable to bear remaining in the halls which had brought her so much grief for a moment longer, and arrived months later at Bag End, to utter chaos. Her mother and father’s worldly possessions lay strewn about her lawn, which was densely populated with Hobbits from all over Hobbiton, all of whom looked quite astonished to see her standing before them.

At the center of the bedlam was Lobelia, and now quite pregnant, Bilbo found she had even less patience for her cousin’s antics in this world than she had in the other. She marched - waddled – right up to Lobelia and slapped her across the face. It was, perhaps, not as satisfying as punching her in the nose would have been, but the Third Age did not have plastic surgeons, and so Bilbo felt it would be better to exercise at least some modicum of restraint.

“Now, see here, you miserable shrew! I do not know what possessed you to come into my home and sell all of my things, but I do know that you will undo this foolishness now, or I will make you wish the dragon had lived long enough to get hold of you.”

Ashen-faced, Lobelia shrank back for a moment and then pulled herself up to her full height, which was, unfortunately, two inches more than her own. “I do not know who you are, vagrant, but I inherited this house from my late cousin, and if you ever strike me again, I will summon the Bounders to deal with you.”

Bilbo laughed in her face. “The Bounders? Oh, ‘Belia. You wretched, small Hobbit lass. I have slain orcs and the spawn of Ungoliant and faced down the greatest calamity of our age. I have found and lost a husband, and found the strength to journey on alone. No Bounder could ever hope to hold me.”

Her face pinched, Lobelia floundered for a moment before saying, “Well! Well, I never! Hmmph!” She tried to flounce off then, but Bilbo had spent too much time befriending Nori – in both worlds – to miss the silver which burdened the pockets of her cousin’s apron. She leaned forward as smoothly as she was able with her rounded belly and relieved Lobelia of her prizes.

“Off with you, cousin. And may you never darken my doorway again.”

She only spared Lobelia’s retreating back a few moments before turning to disburse the rest of the crowd, though not before receiving assurances that all of her items would be returned shortly.

And then at last, she came to the end of her unexpected journey, standing before the green door which even now bore Gandalf’s handiwork.

After gazing upon it for several long moments, she tutted at her own foolishness and let herself inside. The smial was empty – and not simply because the majority of her belongings had been carted out a short while ago. No laughter rang through the halls. No plates were tossed about. The only sounds came from the birds outside her windows.

She looked down at her belly somberly. “Well, Frodo, my lad. What shall we do now?”

Eighty years later, Bilbo turned down the offer to enter the Undying Lands. For how could she be reunited with Fili in truth, rather than in her dreams, if she did not pass on? She gathered her world-weary lad into her arms when he, too, decided to stay, and together they lived out the rest of their days surrounded by Samwise and Rosie’s beautiful children.

Though her lad was still quite young, having aged in the ways of his father's people, the two of them began their next adventure within moments of each other, some last trick of the Ring.

Bilbo woke and sat up in her bed, frowning as she turned to look at her husband sleeping peacefully on the other side. She reached over and ran feather-light fingers over his bearded face and tried to dispel the sorrow clutching at her heart.

Fil was young and healthy and strong. She did not know where this grief and longing came from, but every now and then, she would wake in the middle of the night and gaze hungrily at his beloved face, reminding herself that they had many years left together.

Well-accustomed to waking at the slightest noise after adding three children to their family, Fili’s eyes snapped open at the gentle caress, and he groaned softly and turned over to look at her. “What’s wrong, love?”

She shook her head, unable to explain it.

Wordlessly, he opened his arms, and she slid toward him, laying her head upon his chest. “There, now,” he murmured, beginning to run his fingers through her thick mass of curls. “What’s the matter with my burglar?”

She snorted in spite of herself. “I _told_ _you_, it was an _accident_.”

“Of course it was,” he agreed doubtfully. “Of course.”


End file.
